Ethelia
by WolfRune20855
Summary: Ethelia has spent the better portion of her childhood in the College of Winterhold. Magic is her lifeblood. She breathes, speaks, and eats it. Fresh out of the College, Ethelia has her sight set on joining the Imperial Legion... but what happens when she is intercepted on the way there? And not just by anyone, no. It had to be the Stormcloaks.
1. Prologue

When I was little, my father used to tell me stories about my mother.

"Ethelia," he'd say, "your mother was the best Battle Mage in the whole vast expanse of Skyrim, but she wasn't just that. She was also the most beautiful woman in all of Tamriel."

"What did she look like?" I would ask.

"She was born a gorgeous High Elf, and raised as one. Her long blonde hair and golden eyes entranced and softened even the most guarded of hearts. When she walked into any room, it would light up. She had the loveliest smile." He would then get that faraway look in his eyes as if recalling past memories.

"Did she look a bit like me?" I'd ask, for I had the pointed ears of an elf.

"Yes, she did look like you," he'd smile and pull my tiny pointed ear.

"Tell me about when you met." I would beg.

"Alright," he'd give in after I begged for a good minute.

"I was nineteen and had just recently enrolled into the legion, and deployed to Skyrim. I was so inexperienced. I could hardly believe they put me and another boy in charge of guarding an Elven Princess, but thank Mara they did, because that princess was-"

"Mother." I would always finish.

He would smile. "Yes, it was your mother, the beautiful Princess Narwen, the legendary "Fire Maiden."

I would nod and pretend as if I hadn't heard the story a thousand times before, and he'd continue.

"She wasn't just a breath-taking princess either, she was a Battle Mage as well, the best one in the legion. As you can imagine, I fell in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her."

He would sigh and continue to describe how they met, then he would go on to tell about their adventures, until he got to the part I loved the most, when he asked her to marry him.

"We were on a secret mission for the Emperor," he'd whisper.

"What was it for?" I would ask, forever curious about my father's role in the army.

"I can't tell you that," he always said. "It's still a secret." I then protested and begged, but never would he tell me.

"Anyways, the Emperor had given us a secret mission and we were in Riften." He would continue to describe the story of how he had asked my mother to marry him, then he would tuck me in to bed and kiss me on the forehead.

"If she was a princess, that would make me a princess too," I would state a matter of fact-ly.

"I guess so," would always be his simple reply.

"Does that mean I'm a Battle Mage as well?"

He would smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges, "Ethelia, sweet roll, you can be anything that you want to be."

"How did she die?" I would ask, and he would give me that sad smile.

"In the war," he'd state, and I always got the feeling that he was holding something back, not telling me an important detail.

It was these stories about my mother that inspired me to become Battle Mage, to start training ruthlessly at the tender age of four, when I was sent to the College. My father was always there, cheering me on.

"You can be anything that you want to be. You can be a Battle Mage, or a great warrior, maybe even a General of the Imperial Legion."

"Just like you." I would say.

"Just like me."


	2. Chapter 1

The cold icy sleet met my cheek as soon as I stepped outside. The wind bit into my mage cloak. All I wanted to do was turn around and go back to the College.

"No," I told myself, "you've got to keep going."

I blew warm air in to my hands, I would've liked to summon flames but most Nords feared such idle magic.

"Come on!" I shouted over the roar of the wind to Stig, my fellow Battle Mage. I pulled my cowl up over my head and continued my trudge up the hill.

"Lia, why don't we take the wagon?" Stig grumbled, "Solitude's a long way off."

"The wagon is too likely to be attacked," I replied.

I didn't want to let him know the truth that neither of us had enough coin. It would've been at least fifty septiums to ride that thing, and that meant a hundred septiums for both of us. I shoved my numb hands into my pockets and kept moving.

"Really?" Stig asked.

I didn't really know, so I just said nothing. We both had little knowledge about the outside world because we had spent the last decade and half in the College of Winterhold, but now we're off to join the legion. The legion needed mages, and we needed money, on top of that, one cannot really refuse an offer from one's own father. We kept walking, the cold air biting through our thin robes.

"Do you think it will be easy?" Stig asked again and sighed, Stig simply talked too much.

"Of course, we'll conjure up one flame atronach a day and lounge about on silk sheets for the rest." I replied sarcastically.

"Really?" Stig looked at me with amazement. I stopped in the road, and turned about to face the boy. He was a year younger than me but nearly two heads taller. I was oddly short, for being part she-elf.

"Stig," I said, "Will you stop asking so many questions? I do not know any more than you do."

The boy lowered his eyes. "Sorry. I just thought that you might know more...because your dad's...you know..." he trailed off.

Yes, I did know. My father was the Supreme Glorious General of the Grand Imperial Army. I sighed, I didn't like other people to know, they tended to treat me differently because of it.

"What's it like? Being the General's daughter?" He asked.

"That's another question," I said, avoiding the answer altogether.

"Right," Stig said, "I won't do that again."

"Good boy," was my only reply, I heard Stig "hurumph" behind me.

We walked in silence for the remainder of the journey. It was past midnight by the time we go to the small roadside inn. I walked inside and Stig followed, inside sat was a group of rowdy-looking Stormcloak soldiers.

"Lia," Sig whispered.

"Give them nothing to question about you and they won't bother." I whispered back, but still I gripped my elm staff a little tighter.

"What can I help you with?" asked the pudgy innkeeper.

"My brother and I are coming home from the College," I said, "we would like to rent a room for the night."

"Twenty Septiums," he said, I dug in my pocket and pulled my out my well-worn satchel.

"I only have ten, will you take that?" I asked guiltily.

He grunted, "Take the room for the night, I'm having trouble getting customers with that lot over there," he gestured to the Stormcloaks. "Anything else I could interest you in?"

"No thank you," I answered and turned back to Stig. He was looking at the soldiers warily. "Come on," and I dragged him to the small cupboard with two beds that apparently qualified as a room.

I closed the door firmly and looked him in the eye. "You have nothing to fear from them," I said, "you are a loyal citizen of Skyrim, a true Nord."

Stig swallowed. "OK, sure."

* * *

Something cold and metallic was touching my throat. My eyes flew open to find one of the Stormcloak soldiers from the inn leering above me. Instinctively, my hand burst into flames. The soldier shook his head and tsked.

"I wouldn't if I were you, little elf. I'll cut your throat the moment you do, I have no love for your kind." I debated his words for a minute then extinguished the fire.

"Brandr, are you sure that this is a good idea?" a Stormcloak girl with blonde hair asked.

"Quiet, Lielle," Brandr said, "Ulfric said we need mages, and that's what I intend to bring him."

"Yes...but Ulfric also said that he wanted-" Lielle began.

"Put a cork on it," Brandr cut her off, "go get the other one." Lielle called to another soldier and he brought an unconscious Stig in. His face was covered in cuts and bruises.

"What did you do-"

"Shut. Up." Brandr ground out, and he brought the hilt of his weapon down on my head.

Thud, I experienced my first blackout.


	3. Chapter 2

"What's your name?" Brandr poked Stig with his dagger. Stig just grunted. "I said, what is your name?" the Stormcloak leader raised his voice. Stig's eyes held his defiantly. Brandr straight up slapped Stig across the face. "Answer me!"

"Why don't you go Oblivion?!" I shouted at him, nobody talked to my best friend that way.

"Nobody asked you, _elf_," he spat.

For the past three hours he had been ignoring me. He was a true elf-hater, and didn't consider me worthy of speaking to. He was also a tyrant, a bully. I'd seen the way he treated his comrades and there was no love between them.

"Watch your tongue, whelp!" Stig started, "you're talking to-" I shot him a warning glance.

"Talking to whom?" Brandr mocked.

"Nobody," Stig muttered.

"That's right, I'm talking to nobody," he taunted, "just a lowly elf. A Nord like you should know better than to make friends with the likes of her."

Stig was about to punch him, I could see it in his eyes. He had been my best friends for several years; I could read him like a book.

"Don't." I whispered. Stig looked deeply into my eyes, 'are you sure?' they asked. I just nodded.

"Now, you will answer my original question. What is your name?" The leader stuck his rather long nose in Stig's face.

"Stig," he answered quietly.

"Good," Brandr said and patted Stig on the head like a dog. I could tell that this only irritated him further. "That's a good Nord name."

I scoffed, good Nord name? Stig was a Breton.

"Is something funny?" the Stormcloak asked. I had half a mind to give him the truth, but thought it would be funnier just to let him live in his fantasy world. He was one annoying stuck up horker, and I swore to myself that I was going to break his tusks and use them as toothpicks, as soon as I was out of these wretched bonds.

Lielle, the blonde Stormcloak girl, pulled the wagon to a stop. "We're here," she said.

Here.

She meant Windhelm.

* * *

The first words that came to my mind when I looked at the city were words like 'big,' 'confusing,' and 'segregated.' I gazed behind my shoulder at a dark elf being beat into a pulp. Yeah, I would have a great time here.

The wagon rattled into the courtyard, a man in Stormcloak officer armor stood there. "What have you brought me this time, Brandr?" he asked with a twisted smile. Apparently it was a fairly regular deal, kidnapping people in the middle of the night and bringing them here.

"Mages, sir." Brandr said jumping out of the wagon, roughly he pulled Stig out. He did not, however, want to touch me.

"Mages?" The officer looked surprised. "How on earth did you find them?"

"Ran into them at an inn sir," our captor replied, much too proudly for my liking. I noticed that his two comrades had their heads down and said nothing, perhaps they were ashamed.

"Fresh outta the College." The officer seemed to have noticed what the captain didn't. "What are their names?"

Why doesn't he just ask us? I thought.

"The boy's Stig."

"Stig what?" He looked Stig over.

"Dilborn." He mumbled under his breath.

"Stig Dilborn, a Breton?" the officer asked. Stig nodded, "and the girl, what is her name?"

Brandr blushed, "I don't know, sir."

"I'll have your name." The officer finally looked at me.

"I'll have yours," I retorted. I was in no sort of mood to give my actual name to a Stormcloak officer.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced," he said. The name rung a bell, I'd heard it before. "And now yours?"

Stig looked at me in warning. "Lia, Lia Tullos."

"Lia Tullos? Strange name for an elf." I remained silent. He seemed to know that I was not giving my full name. "Normally I'd have the two of you go on a quest to prove you worth, but I'm feeling nice today." He said.

"And we need Mages," mumbled the girl next to me.

"So all that I will have you do is recite the oath." Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced continued.

Oath? I glance over at Stig who was looking down at the ground. He did not want to recite this oath any more than I did. I felt a dagger press in to my shoulder blades, Stig was in a similar situation.

"You will say the oath" Brandr spat into my ear.

Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced smiled. "Now repeat after me:

I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak...Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim.

As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond...even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms.

All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!"

The dagger dug into my back. Stig's eyes met mine. I nodded. "I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak..." I mumbled the oath along with Stig.

"Good," said the officer and the dagger was lifted off from between my back.

My mouth felt dry.

By Mara!

I had just joined the Stormcloak rebellion.


	4. Chapter 3

I gazed warily at the standard-issue Stormcloak uniform laid out on my bed. One look at the hideous blue garb was all it took to make my decision; I was not going to wear it.

"You should put it on," Lielle said. The blonde girl was in the same barrack I had been assigned to. Unfortunately, of the people in our barrack, notably male and female, Stig was not one of them. The officers in charge seemed to want to keep us apart, I couldn't blame them. I certainly wouldn't want two of the most powerful mages in all of Skyrim lodging in the same barracks, not that they knew that we were the most powerful Mages in all of Skyrim.

A burly Stormcloak shoved his way in to the barrack. He spat in disgust when he saw me. "What's she doing here?"

Lielle sighed and rolled her eyes, "she's one of us, Sabell."

"One of us?" Sabell circled me. "She's an elf, probably works for the enemy, likely knows the Imperial army by name."

I sighed; I didn't know everyone by name. I hadn't been to Solitude for a good three years, not that I was going to tell them that. It would probably just make him angrier.

"There is no place for your kind here," Sabell spat. "No place for any of your kind in the world." He raised his hand and struck me across the face. I didn't react. I was used to his type, to bullies. He laughed. "See, she doesn't even react," a crowd was starting to form around us.

"That's enough." Lielle said.

"Is it?" he asked, "because I don't think it is." He lifted his hand once again and struck me. "Fight back, elf!" he taunted.

I tried to remember what years of training had taught me. I tried to control my rage. Magic is for good, I reminded myself. It's used be used for fighting, healing, and discovering the unknown. Never should one ever use magic in times of rage, but this was a matter of self-defense, wasn't it?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I warned him.

He laughed. "Why? What could someone like you do?"

I couldn't control it any more, my hand burst in to flames. Sabell took a step back. "Yeah," I smiled grimly, "I can do that." I hit him on the butt with a fireball. I made sure it was a small one though , just barely enough to hurt him, more to just leave a sting.

Sabell retreated back. "Are you scared?" Lielle taunted. It was not the Stormcloak way to show fear. A retreat would be a sure sign of fear.

Sabell ran at me, battle axe in hand. "Thanks." I muttered to Lielle, before countering his attack. He threw strike after strike at me, each time I countered it. I summoned sparks in to my hand and hit him with it every so often, teasing him. It seemed to just make him angrier. He began to attack more fiercely, and I felt my magicka pool begin to drain.

"That's enough!" a strong voice shouted from the back of the room. Sabell stopped his attack mid-swing and I cautiously smothered my flames by rubbing my hands together. A man in Stormcloak armor strode in. His piercing eyes reminded me the glowing blue essence the ice wraiths often leave behind. His blonde hair was slightly grimy and choppy; I guess he gave himself his own haircuts. I could see his well-built body beneath the armor. The man stopped in front of us. He looked the two of us over several times then spoke.

"Who started this?"

"The elf did!" Sabell was very quick to speak.

The man raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure she did, Sabell." He smiled to himself. "However, you are prone to picking fights, so that leads me to believe otherwise." He rubbed his hands together. "Sabell, you're on clean up for the rest of the week." Sabell groaned. The man turned towards me, "and you get to muck out the stables."

I sighed. Lielle patted me on the back. "Could've been worse," she said with a smile.

* * *

Bright and early I entered the stables to take a look around. There were three horses, if you didn't include the creepy demon horse, perhaps Astrid was missing him. I sighed. It could've smelled worse. I picked up the shovel and started shoveling horse dung.

One of the nearby horses whinnied. I approached the stall and gasped at pure white mare. She pranced up and down as I approached. I held out my hand.

"Honglath nin!" I said, calming her, "usstan hass'l dos nau jivviim," I continued. The horse seemed to settle. She stopped prancing and stood there, expectant. I stroked her muzzle. It calmed me to do so.

I had always had a talent with animals. Whenever I was around they were friendlier and less giddy. My gift seemed to be intensified on horses.

"Vel'bol zhah dosst kaas?" I asked the mare her name. I wasn't expecting a reply. Normal animals could not talk. I had once heard of a talking dog, if only horses could talk. "Dos saph ussa. Xuat dos?" I continued, and the mare whinnied. I suppose I'd have to do with that answer.

"I've heard of a magical language that the elves speak," a deep voice resonated behind me. "I didn't believe it possible." I turned to see the soldier who'd broken up the fight between me and Sabell. The one who'd assigned me to stable duty. Holy Lady Dibella! Why did he have to be so handsome?

I smiled, "it takes years for one to learn." I picked the shovel back up and began mucking out the stables again.

The soldier chuckled good-naturedly, "well, it seems to work. Krein hasn't been able to quiet down for a long time." He stroked his horse's neck.

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"What happens to all of us," the soldier replied, "war."

I set the shovel down. "Why are you in here?" I asked.

"Is it wrong for a man to want to check on his horse?" The soldier replied defensively.

"No," I shook my head, "I mean, why are you talking to me?"

The soldier laughed again. "Why would I not talk to you?"

"Because I'm an...you know..." for some reason I did not want to mention the word elf.

"Elf?" he asked.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed.

He sighed. "I'm neither Sabell nor Brandr." I raised an eyebrow when he mentioned Brandr, as if he knew who'd found me "I do not like the Thalmor; however, I do not believe we should treat other races differently." I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Then why are you a Stormcloak?"

He smiled. "I believe in a free Skyrim, one without the Empire." He spoke so passionately, his voice mesmerizing. "Why are you a Stormcloak?" He asked.

I sighed and sat down on a hay bale. "I wasn't planning on it. My friend and I were on our way home, when we were pressed."

He sat down next to me. "I don't believe in press gangs." I looked at him in surprise. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "It's just you're not very Stormcloak-y, are you?"

He shrugged. "I still fight for a noble cause," he stood up. "I should go back. They'll wonder where I am."

I nodded. He started to leave the stable, and then turned around. "What's your name?"

"Lia." I said.

"Nice to meet you Lia, I'm Erik." He turned around and left.


	5. Chapter 4

Lielle and I walked down the steps from the Palace of Kings, for the past week I hadn't been able to find Stig, and Lielle had been the one person in my barrack who didn't totally hate me. She was funny and nice.

"So?" I asked her.

She grinned. "We're being moved." She said and started walking out of the city.

"To where?" I asked. I had become used to the secruity of Windhelm's walls, and I really didn't want to move out to fight Imperials.

"It's a Stormcloak camp just west of Solitude." Lielle answered my question.

"West of Solitude? Isn't that a bit risky?" I questioned, right next to the Imperial headquarters, fantastic idea.

She sighed. "We are in the Stormcloak army, Lia," she reminded me, not that I needed reminding.

"I know!" I raised my hands in surrender. We strolled into the stables. I grabbed a saddle from the wall, and started saddling one of the standard issue horses.

"Hiya," said an all too familiar voice behind me.

"Stig!" I turned around and hugged my best friend. "You're coming with us?"

"He's not the only one." A blonde head appeared behind one of the horses.

"Erik?" I was surprised to see the Stormcloak soldier. I hadn't spoken to him since the stables.

"Yeah, it's Erik." He saddled his horse.

"You two know each other?" Lielle asked as she saddled the black horse with red eyes.

I shrugged. "We spoke briefly."

"Indeed, we did." Erik agreed. I finished saddling my horse, to my right Stig was having difficulties saddling his own.

"Let me," I said. Stig had never been good with horses, he smiled and thanked me.

"Let's move out." Lielle said once we were all ready. I put my foot in the stirrup and hulled myself on to the horse.

* * *

"We should stop here for the night." Erik pulled his horse to a stop in the middle of a small clearing. We did the same. "The camp is still a good day's ride away." He dismounted his horse. "Lielle, go collect fire wood, we need to get a fire going. Stig, go with her." Lielle and Stig went in to the forest.

I unsaddled my horse and started rubbing him down, when I finished with that, I started on Stig's horse.

"You don't have to do that." Erik said, rubbing down his horse. "I'm sure Stig can do it."

I paused in my work. "I don't know if you've noticed," I said, "but Stig's not the best with horses."

He chuckled. "I've noticed."

I finished with Stig's horse and tied both of ours to a nearby tree. I pointed at Lielle's horse. "What's its name?" I asked.

"Shadowmere." Lielle answered coming back in to the clearing. "His name's Shadowmere." She plopped a pile of wood down on the ground, and arranged it. "Divines! I've lost my flint!" Lielle grumbled, reaching into her back pocket.

"Here, let me." I summoned flames in to my hand and sent a fireball hurling at the wood. It caught fire.

"Impressive." Erik said, his eyebrows curving just slightly.

Stig laughed and sat down by the fire. "She should be, seeing as she's the best in her class." I shot Stig a look. I liked Lielle and Erik, but that didn't mean that they weren't still Stormcloaks.

"Class?" Lielle asked.

"Destruction." I sat down next to Stig, "but Stig's the best in Conjuration." I added on.

Lielle came over and sat on the other side of the fire. "I always wanted to learn magic."

"What stopped you?" Stig asked.

"My family, they're superstitious about it." She sighed.

"So you joined the Stormcloaks instead?" I questioned.

She nodded. "That's part of the reason."

"The other part?" I asked.

"The Imperials hurt a group of my friends, killed all but two of them." Lielle replied.

"All but two?" I'd never heard of the Imperials killing random people.

"They _were_ criminals." Erik joined us around the fire.

Lielle smiled. "So, in the eyes of the Empire we're criminals." I realized she was right. It was a crime punishable by death.

"Why'd you join the Stormcloaks?" Stig asked Erik.

"I didn't plan to." Erik said.

"Did you get pressed?" Stig asked.

"Not exactly." Erik paused, seeming to think over what he was going to say. "I grew up in Riften, the Orphanage. I got kicked out at the age of eighteen. I had planned on going to Cyridil, but was intercepted on the way across the border. The next thing I know, I woke up in a wagon full of Stormcloaks and a thief. We were headed towards-"

"Helgen." I answered. My father had told me the story of the dragon attack.

"Yes. Helgen. The imperials tried to cut off my head, but then a dragon attacked, most ferocious sight I ever saw, but I escaped with a Stormcloak and decided to help their cause." Erik finished. "What about you?" He asked Stig.

Stig sighed. "Nothing like your grand entrance, if you've heard Lia's, then you've heard mine."

"We were pressed together." I explained.

Lielle laughed. "And they both put up quite a fight."

I rolled my eyes. "You would know." I retorted.

"Yes, I would." She looked over at Erik. "She asked the general for his name, made him give it to her."

"Really?" Erik asked.

"Yeah, yeah." I shrugged. "Can we please talk about something else?" They all laughed, then were silent.

"Well, does anyone know any good songs?" Lielle asked, cutting the quiet, "Lia can sing," Stig answered her.

I hit Stig on the arm. "Thanks." I muttered.

"Really?" Erik raised his lovely eyebrows.

"Of course," Stig winked.

"I'm not that good." I persisted.

"Hogwash." Erik said. "I'm sure you're great."

"Why don't you sing something." Lielle suggested. I hurumphed. I knew two songs; The Age of Aggression and The Dragonborn Comes. I doubted that they wanted to hear The Age of Aggression.

"I only know one song." I protested.

"Go on." Erik urged.

I sighed, seems like I won't be getting out of this one, best get this over with.

I took a breath in, and began..

"_Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart._

_I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes._

_With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art._

_Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes._

_It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes._

_Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes._

_For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows._

_You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come."_

I lingered a bit on the last note, heart beating nervously.

Everyone was silent. "The Dragonborn Comes," Erik finally whispered quietly, breaking the silence. "That was beautiful, Lia."

"Thanks." I was glad that he appreciated my singing.

"I don't think there is a Dragonborn." Lielle said.

"Neither does my father." I told her. Why had I said that? Why would I tell her about my father?

Stig stood up. "Well I do." He looked over at me, "That was very nice Lia." He laid out his bedroll. "Best we get some sleep." I took my own out and laid it down next to the fire as well. I looked over at Leille, who was reading a book.

"Good book?" I asked her.

"Yeah." She said, not looking up from her book. I looked on the cover for a title, there was none.

"What's it called?" I asked.

"The Four Suitors of Benitah"

"A romance?" Stig asked, now aware of us.

I laughed. "She is a girl."

"I know that." Stig blushed. "I just didn't think that you were the romance novel type."

Lielle raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think that I was the romance novel type?"

Stig blushed brighter. "You...you...can..um...forget...about...what..I...um...said."

Lielle and I giggled.

"Don't worry, Stig," Erik patted him on the back, "girls are hard to figure out," he stared at me with bright eyes, and the side of his mouth quirked up slightly. "…very hard to figure out."


	6. Chapter 5

I awoke long before the sun rose. The chilly air seeped into my sleeping bag, making it cold. I stood up and looked around. Everyone else was still asleep. I wandered off, summoning small flames in to my hand to warm myself.

I looked out over the beautiful horizon where the stars where just beginning to disappear. My father had once told me that the stars were candles lit by the gods, and they would go out when they woke up. I wasn't sure how true this story was. It was probably just a bedtime story to tell a little girl.

Thinking of my father made me homesick. Never before had I been so homesick. Then again, I had never joined a rebel army before. I wanted so badly to go home. To return to Solitude or the College.

I looked out at the rising sun. I could leave. I could get on my horse and ride all the way to Solitude. It was what my father would want me to do if he knew where I was. I glanced back at Stig. What would they do to him if I left? Would they torture him? Or would they just leave him alone? I didn't know the Stormcloaks well enough to decide. I sat down on the wet grass. I couldn't leave Stig, not when he was still in danger.

I heard the sound of quiet footsteps behind me. I turned around to see Erik sneaking towards me. He raised a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. I turned back around as he sat down next to me. He crossed his legs and smiled, making him look even more handsome than he usually did. "We used to make up stories about the stars." He said, breaking the silence.

"About what?" I asked very quietly so as not to wake Stig or Lielle.

"About the gods." He looked out as the sun began to rise. "About our parents."

"Did you know them?" I asked.

"The gods?" He laughed. "Yes." He said so quietly I could hardly hear him. "My father died when I was six. My mother died three years later."

"At least you knew your mother." I said mostly to myself. He looked at me, the question in his eyes. "She died shortly after I was born. All I have are the stories that my father told me."

"How did she die?" He asked reminding me of the many times I had asked my father the exact same question.

I shook my head. "I don't know." I said. It was true, I didn't know how she had died. I didn't know what had killed her.

We sat there for a while in silence. The sound of birds all around us. It was so peaceful it was surreal. We were in the middle of a civil war. The birds should of been quiet, but nothing had changed for them. Everything was as it had been four years ago.

"We should leave." Erik said standing up. He walked back to the campsite. I watched him leave, studying his broad shoulders and back. The way he walked with his head held high. He had so much conference. He was so sure of himself.

I shook my head. I needed to clear my mind of all thoughts of him. What was happening simply could not be.

By the Lady Mara I could not fall in love.

* * *

We arrived at the Stormcloak camp the next day. When I say camp, I really mean a rather large fort. A great number of guards where patrolling the grounds, making me wonder if they had recently been attacked. One of them stopped us at the gate.

"State your name." The Stormcloak ordered.

"Tell me that you don't recognize me Ralof?" Erik swung down off his horse, a smile on his face.

Ralof's face lit up at the sight of Erik. "Erik!" He exclaimed. The two men clasped forearms. I eyed the man over warily, they obviously had some history. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

Erik smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. "We were assigned." Ralof raised an eyebrow at "we" then seemed to notice us.

"Who are your friends?" He asked Erik.

"Lia, Lielle, and Stig." Erik said, gesturing to each of us as he said our names. "This is Rolaf. He was in Helgan with me." I nodded. It made more sense if they escaped Helgan together.

"You have to leave your horses here." Seeing the concern on Lielle's face he added, "They will be looked after." We dismounted and together we walked in to the fort.

Several tents were set up in the middle of the castle, and I suspected that all the barracks were already filled. Soldiers roamed around on daily tasks. I looked around, I had never imagined the Stormcloaks would be so organized.

In the northeast corner a man stood overlooking the camp. Instantaneously I recognized him. After all, Ulfric Stormcloak was not a hard man to spot. His face had been on every Imperial report at every city.

I tried to make myself smaller than I already was, hiding behind Stig. Erik seemed to notice and gave me a supportive smile. "Ulfric's not as scary as he looks." He said. Great, I thought, he knows Ulfric by his first name. There was no way in Oblivion that I could fall for Erik.

Ralof stopped in front of a small room. "This is where you'll get your posts." He told Stig, Lielle, and I. He turned to Erik. "The High King will be wanting to see you." He said. Together, they left. I took a deep breath and entered the tiny room.


End file.
